


apothecary au [placeholder for when i have an actual title]

by violetinfidel



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Four Swords
Genre: Trans Character, anyways enjoy, ghira's here bc i adore him and im a self indulgent fuck, i mean vaati and demise are more implications
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2018-12-31 11:29:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12131493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetinfidel/pseuds/violetinfidel
Summary: little bits of my apothecary au, worldbuilding and character developlent.





	1. Chapter 1

There really is no reason to have been sent here, he thinks, miserably, as he prints his name on the sheet in the front.

He slinks to a seat in the back, slumps there in his solitary corner. It’s too early in the year for this sort of thing, and too early in the year to have tarnished his spotless record. It isn’t  _ his _ fault that teacher is so grossly misinformed!

At least there’s no one else in the room, aside from the monitor. She’d asked his reason for being here, surprised, when he’d walked in, and didn’t seem to care much for the person who’d sent him.

“Just act miserable if someone walks in,” She’d told him, and gone back to reading her newspaper.

That had been good enough for him. He has enough to worry about, getting home late. His mother is going to have… A lot to say to him on the matter. He devotes his thoughts to coming up with some sort of excuse, a tutoring session, an extracurricular, staying behind to help somewhere, except whatever he says he knows won’t work, so what’s the point anyways.

He’s dejectedly penning in answers on an arithmetic sheet when the door slams open and then slams closed, and another boy that looks to be his age marches in, scribbles his name on the sign-in like he’s aiming to impale the notepad, and tosses himself down in the desk beside his own. Maybe he’d ask what had the other so upset, but he figures he ought to mind his own business, because he seems very much not in the mood and he really doesn’t want to go through the same thing twice in one day.

He does spare a glance at the other when he isn’t looking, and vaguely recognizes him as someone he’s passed in the halls before, though they’ve never spoken.

The sheet isn’t long and it isn’t difficult, and he’s tucking it into the pocket of his binder when the other boy engages him.

“What’re you in here for?” He asks, gruffly, and gives him a look that might suggest that he wasn’t expecting someone like him.

“I corrected a teacher,” He answers with a roll of his eyes, “You?”

“Got into a fight.”

Ah, so this was the playground incident he’d heard about over lunch. There hadn’t been many details circulating, but it was certainly the story of the day.

“What happened?”

“Some guy was tryin’ to pick on me.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “It figures, that you’re in here and he isn’t.”

The other looks at him for a moment, and nods. They’re quiet for a moment.  
“I’m Blue,” The boy says, and offers a bandaged hand to shake.

“Vio,” He replies, shakes it gingerly, and goes back to putting away his assignments.

There isn’t much else to do besides work and staring at the wall, according to the rules of the detention room, but their monitor is busy with her reading and apparently can’t be bothered to enforce them, so they talk instead, in hushed voices so she doesn’t get annoyed and make them stop. An hour is an eternity, especially to two indignant eight-year-olds, and quite a lot can be said in an eternity.

“I’m gonna be a blacksmith,” Blue tells him at some point in the foreverlong hour, “The best one in all Hyrule!”

“You’re very young for that,” Vio says earnestly, “I don’t think anyone would buy from a second grader.  _ I _ wouldn’t.”

“Not now, idiot, when I’m older. I’ll have my own shop and my own brand name and I’ll be the one people look to when they want something made!”

“You’re in a lot of competition, you know.”  
“That’ll make it even better!”

“Well, I’m going to be an apothecary.  _ I’ll _ have  _ my _ own shop, and I’ll be the best one around.”

“An apothecary? What makes you so sure about that? I bet you can’t even mix a chocolate milk right.”

“I’ve several books on the subject at home,” Vio tells him, indignant, “And I already have a few of the very simple recipes memorized. I think I have the advantage here.”

“Any old egghead can read a book. I’ll be impressed once you manage to  _ do _ it.”

“And I will, once I have the ingredients for it!”

“We’ll see about that.”

Blue catches Vio’s anxious glance at the clock hung on the wall. “In a hurry to get home to practice?” He asks, half-playfully jostles Vio’s elbow.  
Vio’s expression when he looks back is one somewhat akin to a deer in headlights, though perhaps more muted. He opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again like he isn’t sure what to say.  
“The opposite, really,” He finally says, softly.

Something in Vio’s tone catches Blue’s attention, and resonates with him. “Parents?”

“...Mother.”

There’s sympathy in Blue’s tone when he says, “I get it.” 

A detention room isn’t the place you ask after that sort of thing, or the sort of place you share that sort of thing.

Between them there’s a collective dread as the seconds tick closer towards when their sentence will be declared served, and when the monitor does dismiss them, Vio seems to be deliberate in slowing their progress. He goes to branch off towards home when they reach the gates, but Blue grabs his wrist and tugs him towards the marketplace.

“I have to get home,” Vio says, with a certain measure of reluctance and a good deal of trepidation.

“We’re in for it anyways. Might as well make it worth it, yeah?”

Vio searches his eyes for a second, then nods, hesitantly. “What’s the plan?” He asks, “I didn’t bring much money.”

“We’re gonna scope the marketplace out. Need to know where we’ll be working in a few years, right?”

There’s an appreciative smile on Vio’s face as they pass the first stall.

Ultimately Blue decides on the first shop upon entering the marketplace. “I wanna be  _ seen _ ,” He says, “And I bet this place’ll be closed in a couple years anyways.”

Vio, perhaps a little more willing to gamble, chooses one in the loop of the cul-de-sac. “It’ll have more space, inside and out. I don’t like crowding, and there won’t be any stalls to take attention away from my store.”

Once the matter is settled they pool their money and sit on the curb with a pastry split between them, and watch as the sun slowly sinks below the horizon. It’s time to go, and they know it, and walk as slowly as possible without seeming dumb.

“My mother is going to kill me,” Vio sighs, looks forlornly down the road that leads to his house.

“No she won’t,” Blue tells him. “Or she’ll have me to deal with.”

Vio meets his eyes. “Tell your parents I say the same.”

There’s an unspoken agreement between them then, and an unspoken promise. 


	2. in which their friendship is reaffirmed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they are Good Friends

The only thing he remembers of it is his fist connecting with that idiot’s face, and even then only vaguely. The next thing he remembers is sitting in the counselor’s office, with the principal, and the kid whose nose he apparently broke.

“You’re going to be suspended for this,” The principal tells him, gestures to the kid holding a blood-soaked tissue to his face.

“For what? Finishing what  _ he _ started?” It’s ridiculous, that the kid picking on him gets off scot-free and  _ he’s _ the one getting punished for it.

“Even if he was picking on you, you shouldn’t have punched him,” The principal says, raises his eyebrows at him.

Of course. They’re going to pull the same bullshit they do every time.

“Well,” Blue says, matches the principal’s scowl to a tee, “I guess I’ll just have my parents deal with this, huh?” He knows very well that his parents will do absolutely nothing, but he also knows that the p-word usually gets school administration squirming in their seats.

“There’s no need for that,” Is the principal’s reply, and Blue knows he’s going to be singing a different tune now that parents and the implication of a legal issue have been brought into this.

“How about detention,” Suggests the counselor, and shoots Blue a look that tells him he’d better accept this one with grace. “For a few days, for both of them- in separate rooms, of course. They were both at fault.”

The principal chews on that for a moment, looks at the counselor like he’s trying to figure out what she’s up to, but she meets his gaze with the same intentness, and he sighs and slumps back in his chair.

“Fine.” He’s rubbing his temples like he’s fending off a headache, which he very well may be. “Fine, detention for three days for both of them, seperate monitors, effective immediately.”

It isn’t what Blue had wanted, but it’s better than he could’ve hoped for, so he puts up token resistance and then takes his sentence, and gives the grade counselor a quiet thank you on the way out. The day’s almost over anyways, so he cuts the last class and hangs out on the basketball court and pretends he’s supposed to be there with the gym class, and because he’s still in his gym clothes no one questions him much. He’s sweaty and gross but at least a little less frustrated when he reports to the room for his incarceration.

“You’ve been busy,” Remarks the monitor, in a tone that suggests she knows exactly what he’s been up to.

“That makes one of us,” Blue shoots back, and dumps his stuff in his seat in the back in a huff. He shouldn’t be here at all, he was only defending himself, but of course the stupid anti-bullying campaign schools pretend to advocate for are just posters on the wall. It isn’t like they’d do anything to enforce those policies.

He’s in there for some amount of time, which he doesn’t bother to keep track of because staring at the clock won’t do anything to speed it along. There’s no work to do in there- or at least, none he cares about enough to remember- so he lays with his head down and pushes his hair to the side to cool the sweat on his neck.

Then the door opens, and he’s expecting to be called somewhere, maybe to the counselor’s for another chat about his ‘temper problems’. He’s not in the mood. He’s heard the same spiel a hundred times, and he’s about ready to punch the next person who delivers it to him. If they aren’t going to  _ do _ anything about it, why bother getting involved in the first place?

But the voice is quiet and familiar, and one he hears very often. All the way in the back, he can’t quite make out what Vio is saying, but there’s a brief silence and then the monitor sighs and says, “Fine.”

Blue is all too eager to gather up his things and follow Vio out, though he’s not sure where they’re going, and not sure he likes it.

“I noticed you skipped last hour,” Vio says, and pulls him into a different hallway when an administrator comes clopping down the current one in her foot-high heels. “What happened? All I heard was something about a fight.”

“Some moron was picking on me, so I shoved his nose an inch back into his head.”

“He would be dead if that were true.”

“Well, I broke it, at least. Serves him right. If the school won’t do anything, I sure as hell will.”

There’s a sort of masked appreciation in Vio’s eyes, though he covers it well with a mild disdain. “You can’t go punching everyone here.”  
“And why’s that?”  
“You’ll end up breaking your knuckles eventually.”

That gets a laugh out of him, and eases him up a little. “Where are you taking me, anyways? We passed the front office two turns ago.”

“Did you really think I was bringing you up  _ there _ ?”

“Well, yeah, why else would you have bailed me outta there?”

There’s a wry smirk on Vio’s face, and though he doesn’t say anything it tells Blue all he needs to know.  
“I can’t _believe_ you,” Blue almost shouts as they run through the gates, “You, _lying_ to a _teacher_?”

“Say it a little louder,” Vio replies caustically, “I don’t think the principal quite heard you.”

“What if she finds out?”

“I doubt she’ll look much into it. She’s likely glad to be rid of that responsibility for the day.”

“What’d you even tell her?”

Vio shrugged. “Some dumb excuse about the principal calling your parents in to discuss your consequence. I didn’t give any details, and she didn’t ask.”

“You’re a lifesaver, y’know.”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“I still can’t believe you risked your perfect student reputation to get me outta there.”

The phrase ‘perfect student’ seems to irritate Vio a little. “Well, it’s a useful reputation to have. No one questions me.”

“Maybe  _ my _ reputation will keep jerks away from me.”

“It might, but I don’t think those kinds of people will be warded off by just a reputation.”  
“See, you tell me not to go around breaking people’s noses, and then imply that the only way I’ll be respected is if I break people’s noses. You have to decide.”

“I never said you had to break anyone’s nose.”

“What, should I sabotage their projects like you did last year?”

“They shouldn’t have tried to cheat off me.”

“I don’t know how they never caught you.”

Vio smiles, though it seems a little forced. “I’m the golden student, remember? I would  _ never _ stoop to such a level.”

“I’m gonna laugh so hard the day they catch you dropping the wrong stuff in someone’s chemistry lab work.”

“You’re going to have to wait a good while for that. They won’t catch me.”

“You say that, but watch, you’re gonna get cocky and you’re gonna pay for it.”

“I’m always a perfectly balanced mix of cocky and insecure. I’m telling you, it won’t happen.”

“Bet you twenty bucks it will.”

“Fine.”

Blue grins, spits into his hand, and holds it out. “It’s a bet, then.”

Vio raises his eyebrows, and takes a large step to the side when Blue insists. “I’m not doing that.”

“Then you’re never getting your twenty dollars.”

“I won’t need it by then.”

Blue makes a face at him and wipes his hand on the back of his gym shorts. “You’re no fun.”

“Am I not? In that case, come on, I should deliver you back to your detention, it’s less of a risk for me anyways.”

“Don’t be like that.”

“Why should it matter? I’m no fun, according to you.”

“Don’t you start that with me!”

Vio rolls his eyes, and makes it a point to avoid Blue’s spit-hand. “ _ You _ were the one to start it, not me.”

“That’s my argument. Get your own.”

There’s a brief period of quiet between them as they walk.

“What was he even teasing you for, anyways?” Vio asks, and there’s concern in his eyes.

Blue bites his cheek, chews it a moment. “Just makin’ fun of me ‘cause I’m growing my hair out.”

Vio looks mildly taken aback, and very contemptuous. “He wants to pick on you for your  _ hair _ ?”

“Yeah, exactly! And he got a couple other people in on it too!”

“That’s ridiculous.” Vio scowls. “And he nearly got off the hook?”

“Would’ve, if the counselor didn’t know me.”

“Ridiculous,” Vio repeats, very obviously irritated. He’s quiet for a moment, has his  _ look _ on that Blue knows means he’s thinking. “Well,” He says, finally, “Maybe I should grow mine out too, so that way they’ll have to split their attention.”

Even with how long they’ve been friends, Blue can’t help but be surprised. “Really? You’d do that?”

He shrugs in response. “Well, if you’re going to set a trend, there’s no reason why I shouldn’t be among the first to follow.”

Blue isn’t sure how to explain that it isn’t quite a trend he’s trying to set, but regardless he smothers him in a hug that leaves him gasping.


	3. in which blue comes out, and so does vio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> self-explanatory, and i'm excited for this!! if you're a transphobe please leave now, spare us all the trouble, thanks :)

Blue’s unusually quiet on their morning commute to school. It could just be the fatigue, Vio thinks, but Blue doesn’t look particularly tired today. Of course, he could have used undereye concealer (he does it sometimes, himself, when he’s up a little too late working) but he isn’t  _ acting _ particularly tired either.

“Is everything alright?” Vio asks, and gets only a nod in response.

He knows better than to press Blue if there’s something he doesn’t want to share, so he relents, and walks with him in silence. Several times Vio thinks Blue’s about to say something, but he never does, and he doesn’t push it.

When they’re at the gate to the school, Blue turns to him and says “Meet me here after school, I’ve got something to tell you,” and walks off.

The words are enough to leave him wondering, but the tone is what really has him worried. It’s difficult to focus on the lessons, and a few times the instructors ask him whether he’s alright. Mostly people chalk it down to the eagerness that accompanies the last day of the school week, and he’s left alone for it- including lunch, when Blue doesn’t show up at their usual spot outside. He waits for half their allotted lunchtime before he starts to eat, spends the rest of the time searching but doesn’t find Blue, and he’s not in class afterwards, either.

Once the bell rings Vio’s out of his seat so quickly half his books nearly spill out of his bag before he can draw the strings to close it. With the day’s trend, he’s worried Blue will be a no-show, but he’s there, and he looks impatient and anxious and a hundred other things and when Vio gets close enough, he grabs him by the wrist and practically drags him off the campus.

“C’mon,” He says, gruffly, “We’re goin’ for a walk.”

“Blue, what’s been going on today?” Vio tries to rest his hand on his shoulder, but he’s walking too fast to make it comfortable, so he drops his arm and repeats the question.

“Let’s get somewhere quieter.”

Blue leads him down a series of roads he’s rarely on, and prefers to avoid. He’s set a brisk pace, and while Vio can keep up he doesn’t see a reason to be rushing so much. They’re on a street so narrow and little-used it’s more like an alley when Vio decides that it’s enough mystery.

“Blue,” He says, half a sigh, and stops where he is. “Blue, listen, I want to help you with… With whatever this is. But I can’t do that if you won’t speak to me-”

“I’m a girl, okay?!” It’s out of nowhere, and when Blue turns to face him it’s with tears in his- her?- eyes. “I’m a girl, I’m  _ trans _ , there, I said it!” She looks as startled as he must, and shuts up and crosses her arms and turns away again.

“Oh,” Is Vio’s response, and then “Wait, so I’ve been calling you the wrong- oh, Hylia, I’m so sorry, Blue, why didn’t you tell me sooner? I mean I’ve had suspicions, I suppose, with you growing your hair out and wearing different clothes, but I’d never really cared about the whole gender-assigned styles anyway and hadn’t wanted to assume-” He stops, looks away for a moment, takes a breath. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling, I’ll shut up.” 

Blue gives him a look but doesn’t say anything, is quiet almost the whole way back, and Vio isn’t sure what to make of it.

“Have I said something wrong?” He asks, when they’re nearing the corner of Vio’s street.

Blue shakes her head. “I just…” She sighs. “I’m nervous and still kinda surprised. You’re the first person I’ve, y’know, come out to, and I wasn’t expecting you to take it so well.” She looks dejectedly down the road towards her house.

“Well, of course, you’re my best friend.” He catches her wrist, gently, and pulls her to the sidewalk that leads down his street. “Come to my house tonight,” He says when she gives him a confused look, “You shouldn’t have to deal with  _ her _ today.”

“Vio, are you sure? Your mother-”

“Is probably out for the day, by now. It’s alright. Really.”

“...If you’re sure.”

She wouldn’t have asked, but she isn’t going to pass up an invitation to get away from that pigsty of a house for a day, and she doesn’t feel up to cleaning and cooking just now.

The walk to Vio’s house is quiet just like the others. He makes something quick and they take it to his room, just in case, and eat at his desk.

“Thank you,” She says, elbows him affectionately, “I… I’ve wanted to tell someone for forever, but it’s just hard, y’know, finding someone who isn’t gonna hate you for it.”

“I think people are… A little more accepting than we give them credit for. Sometimes.”

“Why do you say that? You’ve heard what they say.”

“Well, yes, but… I mean, I’ve been kind of scoping it out for a while, to see if it would be okay to be open with it. Being gay, I mean.”

She laughs at that. “That’s one of the most predictable things you’ve ever said to me.”

He throws a noodle at her, though he’s smiling himself. “Well, I wasn’t exactly hiding it from you.”

“Yeah, and I don’t think you’re  _ exactly hiding it _ from anyone else, either.” She gestures to his button-up/sweater combination. “I mean, you’ve got the look and the attitude, all you’re missing is the voice.”

“It isn’t intentional.”

“Which makes it even gayer.”


End file.
